


A Way With Words

by innusiq



Series: Falling in Love [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America (Movies) RPF
Genre: Evanstan - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Slash, RPF, pre-chris evans/sebastian stan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innusiq/pseuds/innusiq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between siblings, in which Scott at least gets to act like the <i>Big Brother</i> in their relationship this time; Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4219884">White Picket Fence Included</a> but can actually be read on its own too</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Way With Words

It’s been one fun and crazy, family filled, extended weekend for the Evans clan, a much needed respite from his life out in California where Scott finds himself hitting the pavement more often than not, seeking his next role, because while he may never achieve the level of success his brother has gained, he can’t shake the acting bug either and keeps doing what he loves most (what he may possibly love just as much as Chris) and enjoying the life he’s made for himself on his own. He, unlike his brother, _loves_ life out on the West Coast. Yes, he misses his parents, his sisters, his niece and nephews, but he has this whole other life out in California, along with a network of friends who have become a second family and support system on the other side of the country, a _home away from home_ so to speak, that when he’s been away from his apartment in L.A. a bit too long, even when that _away_ is here in Massachusetts with his blood family, he tends to miss the California sun and sand and _crazy_ , living and playing and enjoying life with his _other family_ out on the West Coast, he’s generally ready to _go home_ when the time comes, as it inevitable does.

It’s the end of the Memorial Day weekend, and he is packed already, flight not set to take off for another four hours, and while he really should be thinking about saying his goodbyes to the family at large and hitting the road, there is one thing he needs to address before taking his leave until the next holiday gathering. One person in particular he needs to have a brotherly heart to heart with before their planes take them in opposite directions for who knows how long, because he knows his brother well enough to know there is something amiss that Chris is avoiding, or in limbo about a decision that isn’t so much a decision to be made but more a step his brother needs to learn to grow a pair over and make a move, because the world won’t wait forever for Chris to gain the courage to jump.

Scott locates Chris in their old, shared, bedroom, standing at the foot of one of the twin beds, staring into a suitcase that has barely been reassembled for travel, arms wrapped around a far too broad chest, and still looking impossibly smaller than his body has any right to.

“Hey, Big Brother, don’t look like you’re in too much a hurry to get out of here.”

The fact Chris jumps at the sound of his voice is proof enough for Scott to confirm just how out of sorts his brother really is.

“Hey, _Baby Brother_ , I might say the same to you. Your flight’s earlier than mine. Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

“Ah, come on, man. When do I get an upgrade to at least _Little_ Brother?” Scott whines, pushing off the doorframe and taking a seat on the other twin bed. “And for the record, I have at least a hour before I really need to think of heading out.”

Chris huffs a laugh, sitting heavily on the bed next to his barely packed suitcase. “Well… seeing as Mom and Dad don’t seem to have any plans of adding to the family in the near future… I think you are forever relegated to be the _baby_ in this relationship.”

The grin Chris shoots him is reassuring in that he realizes while things may not be one hundred percent on par with his brother, the world isn’t coming to an apocalyptic end just yet either. Scott has known something’s been up with Chris for a while now, and his inkling was confirmed the moment he stepped foot in their family home Friday afternoon with Chris acting a bit more _off_ than usual, a little more reserved and distant. It isn’t something overtly obvious to the point everyone is walking on eggshells around the guy, but he knows their mother is aware by the concerned looks she spares his big brother now and again when Chris isn’t looking, and the way Chris won’t meet his eyes when they do get a moment alone, which has been few and far between, as if keeping that distance will throw Scott off enough to make it through the weekend. Unfortunately for Chris, Scott knows _all_ his brother’s tells, and no matter how hard Chris attempts to stonewall in effort to keep Scott from finding out the truth of what’s going on, Scott still knows all the same, because unlike Chris, Scott is not blind to what is staring him in the face. 

“Ew,” Scott jokes back, “let us never broach the subject of our parents and procreation again, please, and thank you.”

Chris laughs, nodding sagely. “Agreed.”

The brothers lapse into silence, Chris staring at his clasped hands between his spread knees and Scott staring at his brother’s profile, taking in the wrinkled brow, and pursed lips, and Chris’s tense shoulders. He knows his brother suffers from spells of anxiety, especially during film promotions and red carpet events (he’s been witness to a few, less than stellar, showcases of Chris’s nervousness and uncertainty and fear rearing its ugly head in front of a camera or two) but he’s pretty certain that isn’t the case today. If it isn’t anxiety that has Chris’s world turned on its head, then it’s Chris’s expertise in overthinking life in general into the grave and not having faith in himself or trust in others around him.

“You okay?”

Chris jerks out of his thoughts, turning his attention toward Scott and looking about as lost and confused as Scott remembers feeling so many years ago when he had made the decision to step out of the closet (or at least opening the door to his family) and felt like the world as he knew it was about to come to an abrupt end. Scott sits up, realizing this, whatever it is, is maybe a little more serious than he initially suspected.

“Chris…”

Chris shakes his head and smiles sadly. “I’m… I’m fine, really… I’m fine.”

“Okay… and why do I find that hard to believe?” Scott returns, moving to the side of the bed to face his brother. “Come on, talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, right? No judgments here. No _I told you so_. If I can help, I want to, or at least try to.”

Chris stands, and begins throwing things into his suitcase, deflecting. “It’s really nothing.”

Reading Chris is much easier now that he’s clean-shaven. The tense working of Chris's jawline can’t be hidden behind a normally impressive beard. Neither can the clenching of teeth. The fact _Mr. There-is-only-one-way-to-pack-a-suitcase-and-that-is-neatly-and-efficiently_ is just haphazardly pitching belongings into the travel case is a warning all in and of itself. Something is definitely wrong and there is nothing that is going to keep him from finding out.

“If nothing actually means something, then I’m all ears.”

Chris sighs, frustration clear in his warning tone, “Scott…”

“What? Come on man, you’re always sticking your nose in and helping me out. You’re always there when I need you, and now… now it’s my turn to step up and do the nose sticking, and being the supportive as all Hell brother, so spill. I’m not just a pretty face here. I may be the _baby_ , but I can listen just as well, and Hell, maybe even help!”

Chris doesn’t acknowledge or respond to anything said, and just continues packing, Chris’s anal-retentiveness finally kicking in as he pulls out the abused clothing and attempts folding and _neating up_ his clothes. Scott wants to shake his brother, and while some days he does just that, Scott chooses to wait it out this time and continues watching Chris’s mechanical movements until the zipper is being pulled around with finality and a huge sigh is released.

“ _You’ll feel better_...” Scott leads, sing-song style, hoping to finally pull it out of Chris. 

“Scott,” Chris firmly states, turning to face-off with his brother. “I said it’s nothing… At least nothing that anyone else can help with so…”

“Fucking hell, Chris, no matter what, it’s not the end of the world here.”

“I never said it was.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell acting like it. If I was a betting man, which you and I both know I am, this looks like you back in high school when you were pining….”

“Did you talk to Ma? Did she put you up to this?”

Silence falls between the brothers, as Scott snaps his mouth shut, words abruptly evaporating as his mind starts whirling in another direction and Chris, again, averts his eyes, _hides_.

“Wait… I was just teasing… and no Ma hasn’t said anything or put me up to this, you know her better. She takes care of things on her own, but what? This is all about some girl? Mr. Hollywood… _Captain America_ … is having trouble with the ladies?”

Chris has the decency to blush at the accusation, which gives Scott’s words all the more merit. Scott back-peddles a bit though, because while Chris may be viewed as this _big_ Hollywood star, the current _Captain America_ , Scott knows his brother better than the public and accusing media. Chris may have the looks that are able to attain anyone he wants in life (or more, anyone _anyone else_ would die for), Scott knows his brother isn’t _that_ superficial when it comes to relationships, and that Chris is more selective than most people give him credit for, and damnit, the man will go down with the ship, heart facing the battle-scar consequences, long after the end is more than apparent, even throwing out a life raft in hopes of salvaging those few moments of known _comfort_ a relationship offers even in the face of defeat. 

“I didn’t mean…” Scott begins, and for as much as Scott knows Chris, it’s a relieving comfort knowing Chris understands Scott all the same.

“I know, man,” Chris cuts off, taking a seat across from his brother again, head dropping into his hands before they run over the back of his head. “I know.”

“So who’s the lucky lady that’s got my brother is such a tizzy?” Scott asks.

Chris flinches, eyes resolutely focused on the floor. “There is no girl.”

“Chris, come on, I know your tells… this here,” Scott pauses, waving his hand in front of Chris. “This is you pining, so who is she?”

“God, you sound just like Ma…”

“And I’ll take that as a compliment, seeing as she’s a pretty fucking awesome woman, now stop deflecting. Who is she?”

There is a seriousness Scott can’t read in the look Chris steels him when he looks up, and when Chris next speaks, the one word he does say doesn’t register with Scott immediately.

“He.”

“What?” Scott blinks, not once, not twice, hell probably more than three times, because in that moment it’s as if Chris is speaking some foreign language, so much so that even if Chris were to repeat the word again, it wouldn’t make any more sense.

Chris squirms. “Come on, you heard me. Don’t make me…”

“Yeah, I did, but… It doesn’t… I mean… What…” Scott’s words trail off as the dots begin to connect and the light bulb flickers to a blinding beam of enlightenment, having him jolt up to now take up pacing the room. “Oh my God!”

There is little else he can say, a thousand thoughts processing through his head all at once, and while his movements attempt working out the excitement, disbelief and the wee bit of shock he feels (with little affect), he can’t say he’s one hundred percent shocked all the same. Granted, he never expected his big brother, the one who is supposed to have it _all together_ to suddenly come out when he’s nearing his mid-thirties, but he also knows that sometimes, for some people (like his brother who happens to be more of a thinker than a doer; a worrier over a free-spirited soul) it takes meeting that _certain someone_ before they have the courage to _do_ rather than let their fear talk them out of possible happiness.

“Okay,” Scott says, and repeats. “Okay… so like, when did this happen?”

“When did what happen?” Chris asks, stalling really, if Scott knows better, which he does.

“This,” Scott clarifies, he thinks, waving his had around in front of Chris. “When did you liking guys happen? And why am I of all people the last to know?”

“Well… There was Jeremy Morrison in 8th grade…” Chris hedges, picking at a loose string in the comforter on the bed.

Scott scoffs. “Dude, everyone had a thing for Jeremy Morrison – even Jeremy Morrison had a thing for Jeremy Morrison, that doesn’t make you gay…”

“Bisexual,” Chris corrects, looking up at Scott determinedly.

“Point,” Scott acknowledges with a nod, knowing all too well that liking a guy doesn’t automatically shove a person into left playing field, _so to speak_ , and that Chris being bisexual is definitely true after years of the stories they’ve shared about significant others and the fact all of Chris’s stories were of the female persuasion… until now. “But then… there have been more, right? More than just Jeremy and… and now…”

Chris tips his head to the side, not nodding yes or shaking no, but a so-so kind of answer that isn’t committing to either side, which confuses Scott a bit, not so much the noncommittal answer but that his brother isn’t being as forthcoming as he should be, considering who he’s talking to. They rarely ever have secrets between them. Chris is always the first person Scott calls with good news, and bad alike. Chris has always been his sounding board when Scott isn’t sure what to do, and the first there to help clean up the mess when Scott has found himself in some seriously deep shit. It’s beginning to piss Scott off a bit that Chris isn’t treating their relationship equally, at least not in this matter.

“I tell you everything, man. Why can’t you open up to me here? You’re my _big brother_ …”

“Yes, and I’m the one who’s supposed to have all the fucking answers,” Chris shouts, standing to move and rant around the room again, because an agitated Evans can never _sit still_. “But I’m so fucking scared that I’m either going to fuck everything up or miss the boat completely because I’m too chickenshit to do anything or say anything. I’m a fucking mess, and no matter what I choose to do, it’s gonna change everything and I’m just… I’m just scared.”

Chris is running his hands through his hair again, a nervous habit he hasn’t outgrown in his years of adulthood, fists clenching and unclenching in the longer strands at the crown of his head. Scott is fairly certain if Chris’s hands weren’t otherwise occupied, they would be shaking, and wouldn’t this be a sight for the media and fans to see? Everyone assumes his brother is this huge, confident, _big man on campus_ so to speak, where in reality, his brother is nearly the exact opposite. There is a clear difference between observing Chris in his element in front of a camera, bringing other people’s characters to life with a confidence matched by few in their generation, but if they ever really got to see the real man behind _Captain America_ , they would see that Chris isn’t much different than the average thirty-something still questioning their choices in life and scared out of their mind that perhaps all this time leading up to this moment has been mistake after mistake. It’s sobering, and humbling, being one of the lucky ones to see this side of his brother, to know that for as much as Scott has screwed his life up in the past, his brother isn’t any more confident in this world either.

“Who is he?”

Chris stops, arms dropping to his side before he turns to meet Scott’s eyes. He takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly, steeling himself before responding.

“Sebastian.”

Scott whistles over the admission, because seriously, Chris never did things by halves, and he realizes his brother wasn’t exaggerating when he spoke of fucking everything up and this possibly changing just that, _everything_.

“Fuck, man.” 

Chris snorts and nods his head. “Yeah… fuck.”

In synch, they both sit heavily on the same bed next to each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, and Scott can’t help the small chuckle that escapes. 

“What?” Chris asks, turning his head toward Scott.

“Nothing… it’s just…” Scott pauses, trying to get his laughing under control. “I was just thinking about a sect of your fans whose minds you are about to implode if and when you decide to come out…”

“This isn’t funny,” Chris warns, not seriously, but serious enough that Scott reigns in the teasing.

“Alright, alright, serious mode here, starting… now,” Scott fakes taking some needed deep breaths, hands fluttering in front of him, like pulling a clean slate down for them to continue before turning his whole body to face Chris, tucking his left foot under his right thigh. “So… _Sebastian_.”

“Yeah,” Chris confirms, and there is this slight nervous smile, the one he’s seen before when Chris talks about something he wants, but is afraid to go after or doesn’t believe enough in himself to attempt going after what he wants. It’s small and excited and scared all at once, and it’s beautiful to see, to see Chris has found someone who can revert him back to this crazy _teenaged_ , innocent uncertainty. 

“Well,” Scott eagerly begins, adding, “ _this_ is something I can help you with.”

“What, you gonna be my own, personal, sexual crisis therapist now?”

“I wouldn’t call this a _crisis_ so much as classifying it as an _awakening_ ,” Scott corrects, grinning.

“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound half as bad.”

“Duh! That’s because this isn’t bad, Chris,” Scott explains, understanding a little of what Chris is going through, and knowing the uphill battle his brother will surely face if and when he makes the decision to be open about this part of his life (not that this is any of the public’s business), because no matter how far Hollywood has come (or claims to have come), it still operates under major denial that there are still leaps and bounds to be made before it can truly claim full equality to all its actors and actresses. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s not gonna be easy, and if everything works out with you and Sebastian, it’s hard enough for you going out in public now on your own. You and Sebastian together, you might as well be walking with a neon sign blinking above your heads…”

“I thought you said this wasn’t bad?”

“I did, and it isn’t,” Scott assures, hand resting on Chris’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “But you’d be foolish to think it’s gonna to be easy, and I won’t lie and tell you it will be. Hell, whenever you’ve been caught out with an _unnamed woman_ the media frenzy that follows is unbearable. Look what happened when you took Tara to the Oscars. Now times all that by a million if they got wind of a possible romance between you and Sebastian. Granted, the LGBT community will worship your strength. Your friends will have your back, as well as your family of course, but the media will be a split crowd, some will be supportive and want to tell your story while the others will dig and pick apart not just your life but Sebastian’s to find the flaws to gleefully exploit in the name of _journalism_ , and then there’s Hollywood itself…”

“An unforgiving mistress,” Chris finishes for him, repeating the same words Chris himself spoke after news broke of Scott’s own _coming out_ and the near nosedive his career took. Hollywood can be a bitch because no matter how _open_ it is with the stories it wants to tell, it’s still very closed to the actors and actresses it will hire to tell those stories.

“It’s the bear of the business we love,” Scott agrees. “You can only live your life, the best way you know how, love the people who make you happy and keep pushing for a change that is long overdue and pray you are still alive to witness it.”

“How do you do it? How can you still be so optimistic in the face of such adversity? When there is so much against you?”

Scott has to take a moment to think before answering, because honestly, he doesn’t know, or at least it’s not something that’s easy to explain or that he thinks about daily. _This, is just his life_. There are still days (the bad days when he learns he hasn’t gotten a part he _really_ wanted) that no matter how much he loves acting and his life on the West Coast, where he thinks about chucking it all in and packing off back to Massachusetts with his tail between his legs to lick his wounds and try something else, something new, something _safe_ , but truthfully, they are fleeting moments because he’ll be damned if he allows himself to be run out because someone said no due to the life he lives rather than his acting ability. Hell, his support system, his friends (and yes his family equally) would kick his ass if he allowed Hollywood to bully him like that. 

“I wouldn’t call it being optimistic, I would probably term it more _hopeful_. Sure I get more no’s over yes’s in response to auditions, but when I do get a role offer, it’s that much more sweeter because it’s a moment where someone said to Hell with what is expected, I’m going to choose who I want and they want _me_. It’s bittersweet, sure, but it shows progress, and yeah, maybe that is _optimism_ too. It’s worth it though… I think. I mean, it’s not all rose-colored glasses, but I wouldn’t change anything really. I’m happy, and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?”

Chris nods, agreeing.

“It’s not as if you need to worry about any of that at the moment, anyway,” Scott continues. “I think what you really need to be focusing on step one.”

“Step one?”

Scott grins at his brother, probably a bit cheesily, but it’s worth it to see the skeptical and concerned look in his brother’s eyes. 

“Duh! Step one,” Scott repeats, clearing his throat and gently coughing into his closed fist before starting to sing, “There you see him, sitting across the way…”

Chris groans, burying his head in hands. Scott can’t help carrying on, a little laugh in his voice.

“He don’t got a lot to say, but there’s something about him…”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Chris retaliates, hands smothering the lyrics coming out of Scott’s mouth. “Don’t go using my Disney weakness against me, man.”

Scott laughs out loud now, shaking his brother off which only makes Chris laugh too, and _smile_ , grin actually, huge, and that’s exactly what Scott was aiming for in the first place, _lightening the mood_.

“Ya gotta admit, that crab’s got a way with words.”

“You are insane.”

“And you, my brother, are fucking in love.”

Perhaps this is exactly what Chris needed, not a conversation with their mom, who is the most supportive and nurturing woman any kid (small or grown-up) could ever ask for in life (God his sisters, brother and him are the luckiest bunch of kids on earth), but a conversation with the one person who not only has his back when push comes to shove, but also isn’t afraid to tell him when he’s being a little shit or a fucking idiot, and is willing to whap him up-side the head when called for (metaphorically speaking of course). It makes Scott stand a little taller in that moment, seeing Chris’s relaxed shoulders, the easy smile his brother can’t stop, and the spark in Chris’s eyes that has been missing this entire weekend, the one that says more than any confession ever could. It’s a look of hope.

“Come on,” he says, nudging Chris’s shoulder. “Let’s give the final rounds of goodbye before heading to the airport.”

Chris pulls Scott into a hug before he makes it to the door, the embrace firm and in no hurry of letting up. Scott returns the hug, rubbing at his brother’s back and offering further assurance. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, no matter what. I just think if you don’t try… you’re gonna regret it, ya know?”

When he pulls back to look Chris in the eye, he can see Chris doesn’t just understand but agrees. 

“I love you,” Scott adds, giving Chris’s shoulders a shake. “And I want to see you happy, and I think… I think you have a chance here.”

Chris nods, looking down at the dated carpeting for a moment before looking back up. “Thanks, man. I love you too, and really… seriously, _thank you_.”

Scott snorts. “Hey, what are little brothers for?”

And Chris laughs, and in true fashion, wanting to always have the last word, says, “I don’t know about _little brothers_ , but _baby brothers_ on the other hand…”

And before Scott has a chance to retaliate, Chris is darting out the bedroom door and laughing, as his _Captain America_ weight bounds heavily down the stairs. Scott just shakes his head, laughing quietly to himself and following after. No matter how much he’s looking forwards to getting back home to California, there is one thing he is going miss more than anything, and that is his _Big Brother_.


End file.
